


Brothers

by tarie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarie/pseuds/tarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A brother between his thighs and Brother behind him and thoughts about them are so, so bad, so Sirius focuses on the hazy, almost-acidic taste-tingle of smoke in his mouth, in his throat, in his lungs. The smoke is real and good and won't ever betray him. Won't ever leave him. James will leave him one day, just like Regulus left him already.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers

Sirius Levitates two glasses out of one of the dozen half-open trunks in his brand new kitchen ( _Thanks for the Galleons, dear old Uncle Alphard._ ) and pads out to the drawing room where James waits.

As he rounds a wardrobe, Sirius tips his head back to take a healthy swig from the bottle of firewhisky in his hand. He promptly chokes on the warm liquor and two glasses fall to the floor and shatter when he notices that James is not alone.

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

James has the audacity to look innocent and slightly flummoxed. "What're you on about, mate?" He shrugs his broad shoulders and plops down on the sofa, kicking his heels up on a wooden crate. 

"Don't give me that shite, you sodding sod," Sirius says, grinding his teeth as fingers curl tightly around the Old Ogden's bottle.

"Hello, Sirius." _Regulus._ His voice is soft, lilting and reverberates off the thin glass of the window he has been peering out of for God knows how long. _Fuck._

Before he turns around, Sirius can see his face perfectly in his mind's eye. Oval with a strong chin. High, aristocratic cheek bones. Nose typical of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Lips small and pinky-pale and soft oh yes soft Sirius knows. Knew. Eyes dark and large and full of things Sirius knows, does not want to know, and wishes he knew.

"Reg." Sirius' nostrils flare as he locks eyes with his brother and he wants to hate him. Sirius wants to hate James, that smug sneaky bastard, too for arranging this - _whatever_ this _is_. Regulus says nothing at first; he looks Sirius over from head to toe and Sirius does the same back to him. His once-over is not quite as innocent as Regulus'. It has been a long time. So very long.

He inhales deeply and frowns. James is having a fag now. Sirius can smell it and in that moment he craves the nicotine so badly that his fingertips tingle. It's better to focus on that particular addiction than it is to focus on the one staring him straight in the eye. It's safer.

"We had to trick Mother so I could come," Regulus starts hesitantly. He takes a step forward and Sirius automatically takes one back. His lower lip trembles for just the briefest of seconds before a petulant, protective mask settles over his features. No matter. Sirius had seen the way that tender bit of flesh quivered and it made his stomach churn. _Ruddy knob._ Damn _him._ Regulus lifts his chin in a way Sirius knows he thinks is defiant, but is actually far from it. "You aren't pleased to see me," Regulus says. It is a statement, not a question.

"Budge over and give me that fag," Sirius orders suddenly, ignoring Regulus and wedging himself between James and the armrest of the sofa.

"Oi, get your own." 

Sirius reaches for the cigarette in James' hand but he isn't quick enough; James whips his hand away and leans it over his armrest.

"Smoking is bad for you," Regulus comments. "It will stain your teeth and--"

"Wanking is bad for you, too," Sirius says as he tosses a leg over James' lap and climbs atop him, patting at his robe in search of the cigarette packet. "It'll give you hairy palms and make your eyes bulge out, but do you stop doing it?"

James pushes at Sirius' chest with his free hand, thrusting his hips up in an attempt to throw Sirius off. It doesn't do anything but push their pelvises together and Sirius freezes, his fingers mid-dip in one of James' inner pockets. If Regulus answered him, Sirius didn't hear it. He can't hear anything save for the roaring in his ears. Prongs. God, it's been ages. Not as long as Reg, but ages still the same and--

_This is right fucked up. Buggered up. Bollixed up. Hell._

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. That's it. Yes. 

Breathe.

_Breathe._

Sirius closes his eyes and tries to forget that James is hard and poking against his thigh. His lips part and he inhales deeply. Exhales slo--

Two calloused fingers lightly press his lips further apart and then something is placed between them.

Inhale.

Sirius' eyes screw shut tighter as smoke, heady and tangy and thick and _needed_ , enters his mouth and travels down to fill his lungs. So good. A brother between his thighs and Brother behind him and thoughts about them are so, so bad, so Sirius focuses on the hazy, almost-acidic taste-tingle of smoke in his mouth, in his throat, in his lungs. The smoke is real and good and won't ever betray him. Won't ever leave him. James will leave him one day, just like Regulus left him already. He could have gone with Sirius to the Potters'. But he didn't. Regulus had stayed at home with Mother and Father and--

"I'll be going home now, Sirius. Goodbye."

Sirius' eyes fly open and he twists atop James, who leans up and snatches the fag back. "I didn't give you permission to leave, sap," Sirius says, sneering at his brother. James blows smoke in his face and laughs as Sirius waves it away with an impatient hand. 

"You're not my keeper." Regulus' tone is sharp but his eyes lack conviction.

"I was...." He reclaims the fag and takes a long hit, then flicks the butt. One lone, bright ember flutters away from the cherry, a faint orange streak in the air until it dies out and becomes nothing more than an ashy speck on James' thigh.

"...once," Regulus finishes for him.

"Not once," James pipes up, then bucks his hips up _hard_ , making Sirius topple off his lap and fall onto the floor.

"Still?" Sirius asks, shaking his head as he climbs to his feet. He's confused and he doesn't like this. Sirius always knows what's going on and he's always two steps ahead - except when it comes to Prongs, King of Secrets and Head Starts and Giving Head - and he doesn't like this uncertainty. It snakes and curls and slithers around him like the smoke in his lungs but thicker somehow and he wants it off his skin. 

Regulus shifts his weight and avoids his eyes. James rises from the sofa to reclaim his fag. The git blows a spectacular smoke ring - _show off_ \- and the smoke makes Sirius' eyes prickle and water. He blinks and Prongs and Reg are beside him, then around him, and everything is so pear-shaped.

All of a sudden Sirius isn't so confused anymore. His fingers splay open and the fag drops to the floor. Someone stamps it out and then the three of them - all raven-haired and fumbling and long-bodied - tumble onto the sofa, a jumble of legs and arms and hands and lips. Vaguely Sirius wonders if he is dreaming all of this because _fuck_ this is something he's wanted for so long. He doesn't dwell on the thought, though, because one of them pulls at his clothing from the front and the other pulls from the back and there is rubbing and rutting and then precious cool air on his naked flesh. Warm skin slides against warm skin and, yes, Sirius is Keeper to them both and it is _good_.

It's so good and Sirius wants more. He's always been a greedy bastard and he definitely isn't going to change his ways now. It's difficult to decide which one to taste first but Regulus makes up his mind for him, leaning up over Sirius' back and over his shoulder so their lips can meet. They kiss and suck and nibble and then Sirius moves to James, pushing his tongue in his mouth, tasting smoke and firewhisky and their teeth click together as though noting the ticking of time - _time is short this is short it's almost over_. Regulus' hands move along the line of his back slowly, fingers brushing in just the right way. Sirius wants to laugh -he'd paid attention all those times before, after all - but that would mean he would have to stop sucking on James' tongue and that is not an option. James pulls back and Sirius breathes in the scent of sweat and skin and anticipation around him and then there are wet sounds of lips on lips next to his ear. James and Regulus, his brothers, are kissing, James' glasses are lop-sided, and Sirius grows harder still.

None of them speak. They just do, and that seems natural to Sirius. He knows each of them intrinsically and they move with and against each other with comfort and ease and familiarity.

As Regulus' hands continue to roam up and down and all over his back, Sirius sits up, pushing Regulus back briefly and awkwardly manoeuvres James round so they are chest-to-back. He snakes his hands under James' arms and settles them on his chest, pressing his own to James' back and pushing him into the cushions. Sirius skirts his hands slowly down over nipples and along ribs and over abdomen until he can feel the ghost of warmth near the tips; James' cock is waiting, pressed between cushions and his belly. Sirius leans forward and lays a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck, James' shaggy, perpetually-messy hair tickling his nose, and he can feel Regulus do the same to him. Good boy.

Regulus curls his fingers into Sirius' hip. Sirius' lips form a smirk that neither can see; Regulus has become something more than a boy in the time that they've been apart. He's no longer all shy and stumbling and can _direct_. Direction is good. 

Canting his hips back, Sirius breathes into the dip between James' shoulder blades. James makes some indistinguishable noise that Sirius knows means "fuck me" and he licks his palms while Regulus fists his cock. The couch sways beneath them as James pushes himself up on his hands and knees. Sirius moans and Regulus releases his cock, sliding his fingers along his crevice while Sirius parts James and lightly trails his now-slick cock over James' pucker, loving the cool-slippery-slide feel of it all in contrast with the heat pooling within him. He pushes in - onetwo _three_ \- and gasps at the feel of James' muscles taking him in inch by inch sohotsogood _yes_ , then the sound is lost as Regulus grabs him by the chin and tilts his face to devour Sirius' mouth with his own. James moans and clenches down on Sirius' cock, Sirius gaspmoanwhimpers into Regulus' mouth, and suddenly his brother's cock is pushing inside and he feels so full and brilliant. Fucking fantastic, really.

This is so gorgeous. _They_ are so gorgeous that Sirius can't stand to look at them, so he closes his eyes and feels. They move together and complete the circuit, thrusting and pulling and pushing and Sirius feels better than he can ever remember feeling. His brother and Brother and they are bonded, all of them. Thrust-stab-roll-grunt-sweat-angleright _there_ -yes. There is more love in this room right then and there than there ever was at his mother's home and sex means more to Sirius now than love and blood and fraternity because it's this connection that's bigger than them all. 

Sirius rocks and rides and _lives_ and doesn't even notice that Regulus has stopped thrusting and he's fucking himself on his brother's cock until Regulus' fingers move up under him and squeeze his balls. With a great cry Sirius bucks one last time and then empties himself into James, every bit of his insides throbbing and thrumming. Moans and cries sound up around him and Sirius doesn't realise for a beat that he's the loudest one of them all. As the last bit of his seed spills into James, Regulus thrusts again and once more before letting Sirius go. With a heavy pant, Sirius falls atop James' back, their sweaty skin sticking fast. A beat, and then Regulus is draped across his back and they sated and close. The moment lasts barely a minute before Regulus slumps down onto the floor and James is all jokes and elbows, demanding his "personal space." 

Sirius complies and resumes his earlier spot on the sofa, leaning forward and rumpling Regulus' hair. He's missed Regulus, but he won't dare admit such a thing aloud. Beside him, James scoots closer and lays a hand on his thigh, squeezing slightly, murmuring reassurances and promises that Sirius doesn't want to hear. He tries to block them out and think about the feel of their skin against his and how he would die for them because they are his brothers, how he doesn't want them to leave because that will mean this is over for good. That's why James went and got Regulus. Sirius isn't daft. 

They gave him one last moment of adolescence to keep in his heart before things between them all changed forever.

They just gave him one last moment of adolescence to keep in his heart because they knew that things between them all would be forever changed very shortly. Neither one of them said such a thing to him but Sirius knows it is true just as sure as he knows his own name.

"Can I have a fag?" Regulus' voice breaks the silence.

"No," Sirius says automatically. "Smoking is bad for you. It will stain your teeth and you're too young."

"I'm not a baby."

Sirius ignores him and scrounges around until his fingers curl over the hilt of his wand. He Summons James' packet and lights one for James, then himself. They inhale simultaneously and exhale just the same, grey-blue wisps of smoke wafting out of their mouths and sinuously winding around them, all three. Perfection.

"You're not a baby," James reassures Regulus. "He's just a git who--"

"Christ," Sirius snaps, producing another fag. He lights it and thrusts it into Regulus' hands. Regulus doesn't smoke it. He makes strange designs in the air with it, watching as the smoke rises to the ceiling.

"You're wasting it," Sirius says, gripping the butt of his fag between his teeth, smoke moving in and out between the narrow gaps. 

"If I smoke it, it will erase tastes."

Sirius starts and then stops when he understands. Regulus doesn't want to erase the taste of Sirius and James on his tongue. _Oh._

"Don't smoke it then. Take the taste with you."

"I will," Regulus says quietly.

"So will I." James blows another one of those damned smoke rings and gives Sirius a knowing, almost-maddening smile.

Sirius laughs and nods. His brother and his Brother. So different, yet so alike in some ways. Connection.

Things may be about to change and one day James will leave him just like Regulus already has, but there will always be a connection between the three of them. And the memory of their taste.


End file.
